


We're All in This Together

by desgracias



Category: High School Musical (Movies), ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Alternate Universe - High School, Crack, Gen, High School AU, High School Musical References, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 17:31:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8455489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desgracias/pseuds/desgracias
Summary: Zac Efron is a stand user (stand name: HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL) and traps all the JJBA characters inside his American high school alternate reality (Go wildcats!).





	1. Start of Something New

**Author's Note:**

> I was on lethal amounts of caffeine while writing this

Koichi Hirose found something comfortable about the routines of high school - the sound of the alarm each morning, struggling to find matching socks, walking with his friends to school, having a pop quiz in his worst class.

Of course it was boring, but after all the wild junctures Morioh-cho had been through in the past few months, a mundane life far was far more preferable.

Yesterday was the definition of an average day for Koichi. First he almost overslept. He barely finished eating his breakfast when Josuke Higashikata and Okuyasu Nijimura knocked on the door of his house, jokingly telling him to haul ass or they would walk to school without him. At lunch time Yukako Yamagishi prodded him about getting enough sleep and eating properly like she was his mother. The day would progress slowly until it was finally three o’clock and time to go home. Koichi finished his homework early, played with his dog, Police, and read comics until he went to bed.

_Everything is finally back to normal_ , he thought before drifting off to sleep.

Koichi wished he could say the same thing the following morning.

It went without saying that if something batshit crazy hadn’t occurred in a while, it was bound to happen sooner or later. And now Koichi had _really_ jinxed it this time.

Being a Stand user, he thought he’d seen it all, but when he arrived at Budo-ga Oka Middle and High School, the Japanese characters on the front entrance sign were replaced with English letters. Now it said _East High School_.

The sudden, odd name change was least concerning to Koichi. The building where Buda-ga Oka Middle and High School once stood was replaced with an entirely new one. Aside from the completely different design, this school was considerably larger in size and had three floors instead of two. Glancing around, he didn’t recognize any of the students walking to class. No one wore his school’s uniform - in fact, everyone dressed however they wanted. 

_Am I...at the wrong school?_ Koichi wondered, but that was impossible. He came to this location almost every day. How could he mess up something so habitual? Even Josuke and Okuyasu were with him, and they would have said something if he somehow strayed from their usual path.

Right, Josuke and Okuyasu. They continued walking to the main entrance doors, as if nothing unusual were happening at all. Koichi snapped out of his confusion and ran to catch up with them.

“Hey, guys! Wait up!” he called out to his friends. The two stopped before they reached the doors.

Josuke looked perplexed by Koichi’s panicked expression. “What’s wrong, man?”

“ _What’s wrong?_ ” he repeated. “This isn’t our school! Who are all these people? I’m pretty sure most of them aren’t even Japanese or from Morioh! What the hell is going on?”

Okuyasu scratched the side of his head, as he usually did whenever he was trying to digest a situation that was beyond his level of reasoning. “What do you mean? We’ve always gone to East High School.”

Koichi flinched. “What did you say?”

“Come on,” Josuke continued, growing a little impatient. “What, were you up all night reading Rohan’s latest _tankobon_ and forgot to sleep? We go to East High School. You’re a freshman here. Get your head in the game.”

Koichi could say nor do anything to stop Josuke and Okuyasu from going inside the school. Clearly this was some kind of dream, or possibly nightmare. He didn’t know yet. Any second now he would wake up to the sound of his obnoxious alarm clock and -

He got distracted again, this time by the sound of a horse neighing.

Several feet to his left, two young men dismounted their horses and tied their reins to the bicycle racks.

_What on Earth is going on?_ As far as he knew, no one in Morioh-cho or the modern world rode to school on horseback. This dream was odd, but now it was almost comical.

Koichi wasn’t sure if they were students or staff. They dressed like cowboys from some American Western film he watched years ago. One wore a wide-brimmed hat and had blonde hair that went past his shoulders; the other kept most of his light-colored hair hidden under a knit cap printed with stars and a horseshoe on the front.

The two were speaking in English, but the strange part was that Koichi knew what they were saying. He didn’t recall Rohan using Heaven’s Door to give him the ability to comprehend foreign languages. Then again, dreams didn’t have to make perfect sense. He decided to test the limits of his new language skill and approached the two horse riders.

“And then I told that bitch Diego to go eat shit.”

“Yeah, because that’s the only insult you’re capable of flinging at people.”

“Shut up, Johnny.”

Koichi always felt rude for interrupting conversations, and was especially timid when talking to strangers. “Um, e-excuse me -,”

Johnny and the other unnamed cowboy looked down at Koichi like he was eye cabbage - a small, inferior worm that was impeding upon their important conversation. Their gaze pierced right through him, and what little confidence he started with was shattered.

“Well? What is it?” the long-haired one said. “Shit or get off the pot.”

Koichi gulped. “Do either of you know what’s going on? I went to Budo-ga Oka but apparently, now I go to this school.”

Johnny yawned and leaned against the wall of the school building. “He must be a transfer student, Gyro.”

_Interesting,_ Koichi thought. When he spoke in Japanese to them, they were able to understand. Likewise, when they answered in English, Koichi also understood.

Gyro sneered, revealing a set of gold-plated teeth. The two cowboys made him ill at ease, but he wasn’t convinced they meant him harm.

“You’re right!” Gyro answered him. “Go escort him to the guidance counselor’s office, Johnny!”

“Do it yourself.” Johnny took his bag and walked into the school without them. His flippant attitude was surprising. Gyro seemed brassy, as well, after hearing him talk about someone named Diego so crudely. Koichi didn’t see how either of them could be friends for long.

He tried to keep close to Gyro as he led him through the busy hallways of East High School. Koichi saw few familiar faces. He once read that dreams always included people known to the dreamer, but he was certain he had never seen most of these students in his life.

Another thing that really made this place feel foreign were the “Go Wildcats!” signs around the school, replacing Budo-ga Oka’s owl mascot. Koichi would give this dream another five minutes to end, then he would lose his shit again.

“Well, here we are,” Gyro said and stopped by a door near the principal’s office. “I’ve got to get to class. See you around.”

Koichi looked up at the name plaque on the door - _Robert E.O. Speedwagon, Guidance Counselor_.

_Speedwagon?_ He knew the name only from his brief experience with the Speedwagon Foundation, but its founder was long gone.

Koichi’s lightly tapped his fist against the door, which an ordinary person probably wouldn’t have heard. Yet less than half a second later, it swung open violently - an imposing, blonde-haired, top-hat wearing man standing on the other side.

“SCREAMING JESUS ON A FERRIS WHEEL! I SWEAR IF THOSE DAMN ITALIAN EXCHANGE STUDENTS ARE FIGHTING ALREADY, I’LL -,”

His baritone voice was loud enough to wake up all of Morioh-cho. Speedwagon halted his outburst when he noticed Koichi, and even relaxed his grimace into a warm smile.

“Ah! You must be Koichi Hirose,” he said in a much lower volume. “Forgive me for startling you. Please, come in.”

_This is it_ , Koichi told himself. _The dream should be ending now. Dreams usually end before the real action begins. I’ll close my eyes, and when I open them, I’ll be back in my bed._

Koichi was wrong. When he opened his eyes, Speedwagon was still there, waiting for him to enter his office. If this wasn’t a dream, it could only be one other thing, and that was a stand attack. Somewhere among the staff and student body of this enormous high school was a person with devious intentions.

He added “find the the stand user” to his mental to-do list. But first, he had to figure out which classroom he was going to.


	2. What I've Been Looking For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rohan Kishibe tries to adapt to his new life in as a high school art teacher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god I'm so sorry for this lmao

October first, nineteen-ninety whatever.

The date on the classroom chalkboard didn’t matter. Why was it even there, anyway? To remind everyone that each passing day was one step closer to death?

Rohan Kishibe had to remind himself that this wasn’t a course on existential nihilism. This was _art_. That’s right. Basic drawing and color theory, for even those with zero potential. Normally, he wouldn’t be caught dead teaching others how to draw - but Rohan was an opportunist, if anything, and the experience could be useful for gathering material for his next manga.

Teaching art to high schoolers was something he never considered before, but convinced himself to do it anyway. Truthfully, one of his secret regrets was having little to no relationships in high school. Rohan always preferred to remain isolated from others, especially as a student. This was his second chance to learn about all the things he missed out on.

His studio classroom filled up quickly, but to his disgust, an unfavorable duo showed up at the last minute: Josuke Higashikata and Okuyasu Nijimura. They must have gotten into his art class somehow, one month into the semester. _Did they do this on purpose, just to irritate me?_

Rohan wanted to vomit at the sight of them, yet a part of him was glad they were in his class. If he felt completely pleased with the idea of interacting with a bunch of teenagers on a daily basis, then that wouldn’t be reality, and therefore not adequate material for his narratives.

_Whatever,_ he figured. He could give them failing grades if he wanted to. The thought of that was what kept him from jumping out of the window of this three-story building.

Rohan began his lesson on perspective using basic shapes. He constantly had to resist the urge from telling each student to quit drawing forever. Every few minutes he would hover around Josuke to quietly remind him that his spheres and squares were utter garbage. Then Okuyasu would furiously erase any existence of his drawings that he tried to emulate from Josuke.

About halfway into the class, Rohan heard a soft knock on the door. He wondered who could possibly be this late, but was pleasantly surprised to see a familiar small-framed boy enter the classroom.

“Um, is this art class?”

_Excellent,_ he thought. Koichi Hirose previously assisted him with his work research. He could use his help again - last time could have gone better, but he had established trust now. That didn’t happen often.

“I just realized! I’m supposed to be in math, not art!” Koichi laughed frantically as soon as he saw Rohan’s eyes light up. “Sorry!”

He tried scurrying away, but Rohan pulled him back inside. “No, you’ve come to the right place.”

Just as he was about to place Koichi at a table, an excessively long and noisy crash followed by snickering came from the furthest corner of the studio. Rohan had to do a double take to make certain it wasn’t Josuke and Okuyasu. Apparently there were some new competitors for the number one spot on his shitlist.

Two of those garishly dressed Italian exchange students (Rohan hadn’t bothered to learn their names) somehow found the acrylic paint kits from the locked supply cabinet and spilled all of their contents. Red, blue, yellow, green - every single color was splattered all over the floor and on their clothing. Rohan didn’t know whether to be furious or impressed.

The one wearing zebra-striped pants pointed at his crony with the orange headband. “He did it.”

" _Vaffanculo._ You fucking snitch.”

Rohan’s blood pressure was at obscene levels now, but before he could react, Koichi had slipped out of the classroom. _Dammit. I got distracted and let him get away._

He heard the two Italian students giggling to themselves as soon as he noticed Koichi was gone. Rohan acknowledged the possibility that they created this distraction so Koichi could get away. _Fine_. If that’s how these kids were going to play, he’d entertain them. He’d find a way to make them regret not taking his class seriously.

After Rohan made the two students clean up their mess, the rest of the lesson went by quickly. His next class was in the afternoon, but now he had a few hours of spare time to work on his manga. And by “work on his manga,” he really meant eavesdropping on conversations in the third floor bathroom.

It was time for his favorite part of the day. There was so much drama that went on in bathrooms, so much scintillating information to appropriate, and it made him tremble with excitement. This particular bathroom was often forgotten, but it was also a place for students (or faculty) to engage in activities against the school rules.  

Usually he would camp out in one of the stalls and wait for a suitable person to use Heaven’s Door on, but there were already a few people hanging around by the time he arrived.

One of them he recognized - a brooding, dark-haired man who acted like a character straight out of a _shoujo_ manga, completely uninterested in those around him but popular with girls and boys alike. Was he even aware of his beauty, or did he simply not give a single damn?

Rohan would have loved to find out Dr. Jotaro Kujo’s darkest secrets, and maybe he would get the chance to use Heaven’s Door on him one day, but the thought of going up against the man with Star Platinum was a little intimidating. Today would not be the day he tried that.

Jotaro was vaping with Johnny Joestar, a student Rohan only interacted with a few times but knew him to be a sarcastic little shit. They paid him no mind when he entered a stall.

Their idle conversation only lasted a few minutes until Rohan heard the footsteps of another individual enter the third floor bathroom. He only knew who it was by their voice - Noriaki Kakyoin, the student body president.

“What is this supposed to be, the Cool Kids Only Club?”

One of them exhaled, the sweet-smelling vapors floating up towards the ceiling. “Something like that.”

“It’s alright, Johnny. Kakyoin’s a friend of mine,” Jotaro told him. “You can trust him. Any news on our stand user?”

“I’ve yet to gather any leads on who it could be, but I do have some other news. I spoke with Koichi Hirose this morning. He remembers attending Buda-ga Oka.”

Jotaro hesitated in his response, like he was considering his words carefully. Was he trying to avoid talking about something in Rohan’s presence?

“I see. When you see him again, tell him to meet us here at two o’clock. Unfortunately, I have to get to class to early. We’re having a guest speaker bring in a platypus today.”

The second Jotaro left, Kakyoin and Johnny were practically sobbing with laughter. Rohan didn’t see what was so funny, but he put that thought aside for the time being. He was here for information. It was the perfect moment to use Heaven’s Door now that Jotaro was gone.

Neither Kakyoin nor Johnny saw it coming. In fact, it was almost too easy for Rohan to subdue them while he let his stand do the work. He wasn’t sure if they were stand users as well, so making them unable to attack him, move or flee were the first things he did just to be safe.

“Noriaki Kakyoin. Age seventeen. One hundred and seventy-eight centimeters tall, fifty-eight kilograms in weight. Blood type A. Favorite color is green. Favorite food is cherries. Likes Masakazu Tamura, Sting and the Yomiuri Giants. Has a stand called Hierophant Green.”

Rohan flipped through the pages unfurling from Kakyoin’s face, and took note of a few details that he could create a character with. He moved over to Johnny and began to examine the contents of his pages.

“Jonathan Joestar, goes by Johnny. Age nineteen. Jockey. Stand name is Tusk. Has multiple fetishes and kinks including…”

Rohan trailed off, not wanting to read the next sentence aloud.

“You know, this is first time I’ve ever regretted using Heaven’s Door on someone,” Rohan admitted. “And I thought that Yoshikage Kira guy was into some weird shit.”

He returned Kakyoin and Johnny to their original states, and even erased the additions he made to their pages. If they wanted to attack him, he didn’t care at this point. He gathered his belongings and made for the exit.

“Wait!” Kakyoin stopped him. “Jotaro didn’t mention that you’re a stand user, too. Do you...know about the state we are in?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then will you help us find the person who trapped us in this reality?”

Rohan smiled at him, but he made it condescending. “Reality? Why would I ever want to leave reality, whether it’s this one or the last one? Reality is the ultimate goal of my work. It’s what makes art truly come alive.”

Johnny rolled his eyes. Kakyoin’s face showed a mixture of confusion and antipathy.

“To answer your question,” Rohan added as he walked away. “I refuse.”


	3. Bet On It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow finally an update after so long lol. i borrowed some jokes/humor for this chapter b/c i couldn't help it, i'm sorry OTL

“Seriously, Jolyne. Tell your dad to let me retake that test, or at least let me do some extra credit!” Hermes Costello lamented while they waited in line at the cafeteria. “He’ll at least listen to his own daughter, right?”

Jolyne Kujo ignored her, concentrating on the varieties of dishes that the school chef Tonio Trussardi prepared. Today his menu boasted an apple and walnut risotto, zuppa di pesce, ravioli di aragosta, a lemon semifreddo for dessert. All of the options sounded delicious, if not quite lavish for a high school cafeteria.

The choices did not satisfy her other friend, Foo Fighters. “All I want is a friggin’ hamburger!”

“Gimme a fucking break. Expand your palate, F.F. Do you want everyone to think we’re a bunch of low-class _putas_ who only eat chicken nuggets and shit? Be a fancy bitch for once in your life!”

Jolyne chuckled to herself, idly listening to their banter. She picked up a plate of risotto, paid for her meal and sat by their usual spot in the cafeteria.

It was a table in the farthest corner of the dining hall, a somewhat isolated area where less students congregated. All high school cafeterias were the same, with each stereotype and clique separating themselves from others. There were the popular kids, like Johnny Joestar and Gyro Zeppeli, as well as Josuke Higashikata and his posse. The rebellious, pothead students called Passione had their own table. Usually they started fighting around this time.

A few minutes after Jolyne sat down, F.F. and Hermes joined her.

“So? Are you gonna ask your dad or not?” Hermes pestered her again.

“I will if you help me with my Spanish homework.”

“Fine.”

Jolyne barely touched her meal when Hermes slapped her hand to get her attention at something behind her. She knew exactly what this meant - this was their code for an unwanted visitor coming near their table. Jolyne didn’t turn around to see who was approaching them, but she had a pretty good idea who it was.

But F.F. couldn’t take a hint that Jolyne and Hermes wanted to ignore him, blurting out rather loudly - _Who’s coming over?_ Hermes brought her palm to her forehead in embarrassment.

Jolyne was in no mood to deal or speak with that pink-haired, miniskirt-wearing fuckboy. He bothered her nearly every day, and she knew exactly what he was going to say each time - _Jolyne, you look lovely today. Also, has your father given me his blessing to marry you?_ She readied her middle finger just in case she had to whip it out again.

“I hope you’re not allergic to nuts, because I’m gonna kick yours up to your throat,” Jolyne said coolly without looking at him at all. Usually that was enough to get him to leave, but Hermes’s and F.F.’s reactions indicated that she made a grave mistake.

Shit, Jolyne cursed repeatedly in her head. Anasui wasn’t the one Hermes was warning her about. Enrico Pucci, one of her teachers and bane of her existence, stopped by their table for a visit.

“Instead of vulgar language like that, why don’t you try filling your mouth with the words of the Lord?” Pucci answered with a sneer, adjusting the collar of his $900 Versace vestment. The only reason Jolyne knew it cost $900 was because he couldn’t stop telling the world about it.

She’d really done it now. There was no way her father could get her out of this one. Pucci was quick with dealing out punishments, and just like that, she had a Saturday detention and a trip to the guidance counselor’s office after school. She could try to explain to Pucci it was a mistake, but it was no use. Pucci felt it was his duty as a priest to “punish sinners,” as trite and sanctimonious as that sounded.

Fortunately, Jolyne’s next class was not a Pucci-led one, but the teacher equally psychotic.

The only arts elective course with empty spots was theater and drama. Jolyne wasn’t all that interested in it. F.F. and Hermes kept trying to convince her she had talent and potential to be an actress.

Yet the only true drama queen in this class was its instructor, Dio Brando. His methodologies and pedagogy were strange because they were basically nonexistent. The students played the role of the audience while Dio would act out every scene and play every character of a Shakespeare play. This week he performed _Hamlet_. Sometimes he would modify the script and add in his own name into his lines: _“I, Dio -,”_ was his favorite thing to say.

Jolyne paid little attention to his charades, occasionally taking out her phone to take a picture and tweet about how ridiculous this was.

“...This most excellent canopy the air, look you, this brave o'er hanging firmament, this majestical roof, fretted with golden fire: why, it appeareth no other thing to me, than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours -,” Dio halted his monologue, breaking out of character to his natural, volatile self, when he saw a student enter from stage-right and interrupt his performance.

The student, a boy Jolyne may have noticed in the hallways once or twice before, waltzed onstage to the beat of a pop song playing over the speakers. He wasn’t particularly unique looking, sporting side-swept bangs and black polo shirt. That was quite strange to her - he was the only one she’d seen in this school who lacked a dramatic outfit, makeup or hairstyle. Didn’t he want to make a statement?

Dio let the the student continue dancing and singing, but scowled the whole time - probably because his class seemed more engaged by this performance than his own. Jolyne recorded some of it on her phone to show Hermes and F.F. later. Hell, maybe she’d even put it on the internet - it was that comical.

Redundant as the song lyrics were, a few lines stuck out to her: _I'm not gonna stop, not gonna stop 'til I get my shot. That's who I am, that is my plan. Will I end up on top?_ An ambitious young man, she thought - in fact, not too different from Dio.

The boy may have been ordinary looking, but his performance was flamboyant. He ended with a dramatic pose, the audience clapped, and Dio looked like he was ready to burst a blood vessel.

“Mr. Bolton, I know you are desperate to take my drama class, but this must come to an end,” Dio said. “Get out. If you dare interrupt my performance one more time, I’ll make sure you never dance again!”

There were few instances she recalled Dio losing his temper with promises to disable a student. It wasn’t surprising to her nonetheless. Jolyne, Hermes and F.F. once made a list of superlatives for all the teachers. Dio was “Most Likely to Commit Murder.” Maybe she would bring up his tirade in her counseling session with Speedwagon, but she doubted anything would be done about it. Jolyne had a conviction that Dio was sucking every dick in East High School to keep his job.

After the final bell alarm went off, Jolyne headed straight to Speedwagon’s office for the first half of her after-school detention. Usually he did most of the talking and somehow always got on the topic of relationship advice - she was content with that. He genuinely cared about every student, even the Passione kids. Visiting him was far from the worst part of her punishment.

Speedwagon went on about how he fell in love with his best friend, though it was obvious he was talking about the principal, Jonathan Joestar, based on how he described him.

“In my younger days I had secret feelings for the young master - er, my friend, that is. But I never had the confidence to confess those feelings. Have you ever experienced this before?”

Jolyne gave it some consideration. “Yeah. One time I told Narciso Anasui how I really felt about him. I’d been thinking about doing it for a while, so I said to myself, ‘Jolyne, you gotta get this off your chest.’ So I did it. I told him that he’s annoying.”

Her cheeky anecdote had Speedwagon cachinnating. He only stopped when he noticed someone standing in his office door.

“Ah, hello Dr. Kujo.”

Jolyne spun around, caught off-guard by her father’s presence once again. A man of few words, he hardly made a sound when he walked.

“What did you do now?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Jolyne told him. “You finally done grading papers?”

“Mmh.”

After saying goodbye to Speedwagon, Jolyne left the school with her father, which they did every day as soon as he was done with his work. Then it was her turn to do the talking for the next twenty minutes during the walk home.

She explained to him what happened earlier with Pucci and the drama class with Dio. Every now and then he would lower the brim of his hat, sigh or say _good grief_ , but he wasn’t the type of man to be angry at his daughter for (unintentionally) threatening a teacher. He showed more curiosity towards the student who intruded upon Dio’s performance.

“What did you say his name was?” her father asked. “Bolton?”

“Yep. Don’t know his first name. I think he’s on the basketball team.”

“Hmm.” Jolyne was good at deciphering his mumbles, and this one meant he probably needed her to do something.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. Just...keep an eye on him, if you can.”

Just keep an eye on him. That was easier said than done, in her opinion. She didn’t have any classes with him - perhaps he would crash their drama class again, but that wasn’t a given.

“Alright,” Jolyne grinned, “but you gotta let Hermes retake your test or give her some extra credit to do. A favor for a favor.”

She knew he would say no, but it was worth a shot asking. Jolyne glanced over at her father, his eyes buried under the shadow of his hat. He took out a pack of cigarettes, lit one and breathed smoke into the brisk, autumn air.

“There's something I gotta tell you.”


End file.
